


Blow Out

by spectrekinq



Category: PAYDAY (Video Games)
Genre: M/M, Oral Sex, Rare Pairings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2019-06-11 00:01:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15302973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spectrekinq/pseuds/spectrekinq
Summary: The taxman refuses to give them the last password in order to complete the transaction, and Hoxton knew he had to get it out of him one way or another.





	Blow Out

The sounds of bullets accompanied the air, followed by corpses of the police enforcement sent flying from the substantial force of grenade blast. Hoxworth's sly eyes followed the struggling taxman's clammy facial features, the corrupt IRS member having sustained injuries prior. Dried streaks of blood stained Sturr's face, the impact from the Briton's clenched knuckles shattering nose cartilage, prompting the male to wheeze out in pain.

"It's been a good bloody 10 minutes, an' you still haven't given us the last fuckin' code...we're going to have to change that, aren't we?"

Sturr winced, bracing himself for another blow to the face, only for that moment to never...arrive. His eyes opened momentarily to face the fugitive slowly hunkering down in front of him, his entire skull throbbing from the fist making its contact multiple times. Wrestling in his restraints, he had not been willing to give in so easily, knowing that they planned on abandoning him for the constabulary to take care of.

"Forget it...you're not getting a single word out of me."

He almost spat crimson out at the one now occupying the area between his legs, the gunfire growing distant as the others took to the rooftops to ensure the power was still functioning. A smug and rather shit-eating grin had pulled itself from Hoxworth's lips, a couple of digits toying with the flyer of the wretched taxman's slacks.

"Well, we'll just have to see about that..."

As the crook had spoke, there was the sudden sound of the zipper being slowly pulled down, thumb leisurely massaging in circles around the flaccid bulge tucked in behind the pair of Persian blue boxers. Sturr had only began to acknowledge the former convict's scheme, cursing out under his breath. However, what could he do? Hoxworth had him under his ascendancy, and there was no chance of scarpering out in the long run.  
He was fundamentally inadequate.

The thumb slowly traced along the trembling taxman's shaft, left hand reaching up to push back his own mask. A gasp had found itself being uttered from Sturr's pair of brims, the unexpected wet muscle coming into contact with his steadily hardening cock. Hoxworth's palm rested on the other's kneecap, eyelids fluttering shut briefly upon him enveloping the twitching hard-on.

Everything was just background noise for the two, the taxman feeling like static. His knees occasionally shook from the pleasure shooting through him, prompting Hoxworth to hold them down. His tongue was at work on pleasuring Sturr, the chair beginning to creak under the man.

Although he had taken best efforts to vanquish his moans from being heard by another living soul, he began to quake with such ferocity, finding himself filling the crook's mouth with a rather shrill cry of ecstasy.

"The...the password is ZYGON..."

Hoxworth's digits gripped the panting taxman's chin, raising it slightly so they were on level with each other.

"See? This wasn't too bloody hard now, wasn't it? I knew you needed some good fuckin' sense knocked into you."


End file.
